Fate's Child
by Geselle
Summary: Complete AU fic. The life of the Winchesters after Mary's death.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

2nd November, 1983

Lawrence, Kansas

'The fire was caused due to a short- circuit, sir,' the fireman said, for what seemed the hundredth time.

'But, but are you sure? I mean, did you check and recheck everything?'

'Yes, sir we've done everything and we're absolutely sure it was a short- circuit,' the fireman was getting annoyed now. He could understand this man was in a shock, but that didn't mean he could ask the same damn questions again and again.

'But, my wife…she, she was on the ceiling, she was pinned to the ceiling. How did she go up there? She was there, with blood all over and…'

'Sir, we understand you're in a shock. It's normal, but please, come inside the van. You need help.' The guy from paramedics was patient; he knew how to deal with these situations better.

'But what about my wife? She was on the ceiling. And then this monstrous fire engulfed her…' the man kept on blabbering the same things.

'Sir, you must've imagined that. It's not possible for someone to get pinned onto the ceiling. Now, please come with us. Your sons need you,' the guy from Paramedics said in a gentle voice.

His sons. He'd completely forgotten about them. His eldest son was just four and his younger son; he wasn't even a year old. The guy from Paramedics was right. His sons needed him, they needed their father. After all, their mother just died in front of their very own lives. They were in as much pain and shock as he was, probably even more. They would need him, now that he was the only family they had. This thought compelled this unfortunate man whose wife had just died, leaving him with two kids to look after, to go with the Paramedics guy inside the van.

He trudged along the front yard of his house- part of which was burnt to ashes- and went inside the van to get to the hospital.

The guy from paramedics handed the man a form and asked him to fill it up. These formalities seemed meaningless, unnecessary. But he filled it out nonetheless.

He wrote down his name with great difficulty, his hand quivering at the curve of every letter. After struggling with the pen for a few minutes, he handed back the form. The guy from paramedics, whose name, apparently, was Matt- the man just noticed it printed on his rectangular badge- took the form and squinted at it, trying to decipher the nearly illegible handwriting.

'Okay, um…Mr. John Winchester. Let's get you and your sons to the hospital,' Matt said, half- smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

Fate's child

Chapter 2

Two months later

It felt strange to be sitting in front of her grave. The 'In loving memory of Mary Winchester, wonderful mother and wife', written on the headstone seemed like a really, really bad practical joke that someone might've played on John. Even though it had been two months since she was dead, it still seemed hard to believe that Mary was no more. Of course, she was still there, watching over John and the kids, from somewhere far, far way, a place from where you couldn't return. Perhaps she was in a better place, but the people who loved her were down here, suffering and trying ever so hard to hold on, trying hard to make life the way it was before but failing because there something, or rather someone missing.

Since her death, John came to visit Mary at the cemetery almost every day. He'd come with a bouquet of white carnations, they were her favorite. And sometimes even a bottle of tequila for himself; to drown himself and his woes in this poison, which made the pain less painful, filled the hole in his heart. After Mary's death, alcohol seemed to have become his life- support, perhaps because it helped him to forget his troubles, if not erase them completely.

John would sit by her grave for hours, not talking, not doing anything. Sometimes he'd breakdown and weep, when he couldn't hold it in anymore. He'd even stopped going to work. John was an ex Marine, he owned a garage store in town. The folk of Lawrence trusted him blindly and went to no other garage but his. John was pretty popular among the people. He'd helped a lot of them and besides who could hate the charming, chivalrous gentleman that John was? That was one of the reasons Mary loved him so much besides his loyalty and his undying love for her.

Mary's death had brought about a change in John's appearance as well. He seemed older, weaker. He'd lost that robustness, that charming smile which never failed to make everybody like him. He hardly smiled now. He didn't bother to dress up impressively; he just wore whatever came at hand, his hair always disheveled and unkempt. He'd lost that gentlemanly touch of his. There were dark circles under his eyes from too much drinking and too less sleep. He seemed too tired to do anything, like he was fed up of life, its routines.

The sky was no longer sunny, dark clouds were setting in, engulfing the blue sky, swallowing all the bright sunlight as it made its way further ahead. John decided it was time to go home, which lately didn't feel that homely.

As he drove his Impala into their driveway, John noticed another car parked right near the fence. It was a black SUV, the kind that was driven by the officials, people who held great authority. John had always felt a sense of awe towards these cars, with their black majestic bodies. He'd always been passionate about cars; he treated them like they were the most beautiful creatures on this planet. He felt the same about his car, a black 1967 Chevy Impala, which he'd bought during the time he'd been dating Mary. John loved the Impala, almost like it was family. This often made Mary feel jealous. Why did everything in his life remind him of Mary, dammit!

He got down from his car wondering who could've come. Maybe it was the Sheriff, but why would he come over? Perhaps to pay his condolences or show his sympathy towards the loss of his wife. Since he'd interrogated John after Mary's death, the Sheriff had taken a liking towards John; he'd helped him through all the formalities and stuff. John rang the bell which at once was answered by his older son Dean. The look on his face suggested that something might be wrong. John entered his house and found the kind Sheriff sitting on their couch along with two other people he couldn't recognize. 'Great, more people who want to pay their condolences and tell me how sorry they are for the death of my wife whom they didn't even know!' John thought to himself.

'Hello, Mr. Winchester. My name is Nicole Scott and I'm from the County Child and Women Welfare Department. And this is Mr. Andrew McCain, we work in the same department,' said the blond woman. She seemed authoritative and introduced the other guy in the black suit as well, clearly she was his superior.

'Okay, uh, hello,' John was still confused as to why they'd shown up all of a sudden. Nevertheless, he forced a smile, which seemed like a tough task, and greeted the two of them and the Sheriff.

'We've come here to tell you that we've decided to, uh, we've decided to, put your children into, uh, special care,' Andrew said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. He wiped his forehead with a handkerchief, wiping a bead of sweat, although that was a strange thing to do since they were in the middle of winter.

John couldn't really comprehend what Andrew was trying to say.  
What the hell did he mean by 'special care'? This made no sense at all. He turned to the Sheriff, maybe he could explain what was going on. But the Sheriff just met his gaze for a fraction of a second and looked, as if he felt sorry for something. But what? He then turned to face Dean, who was standing by their dining table, clutching the handle of his younger brother's pram. Dean had an equally bewildered expression on his face.

Nicole cleared the cloud of confusion in the room as she explained in her firm and commanding voice what Andrew had really meant. 'What he's trying to say is that, we, the County Child and Women Welfare Department have decided to put your sons into foster care. We've already spoken to the families and they're ready to take them by the day after tomorrow.'

An eerie silence filled the room as realization dawned on John. At first he seemed flabbergasted, and then shocked. Nicole's words were like a razor-sharp blow to his already hollow chest. He felt like he'd been plunged headfirst into icy cold water, his insides hurt, the familiar agony in his empty heart returned. This was too much to bear. Not being able to stand, he slumped onto his couch.


	3. Chapter 3

Fate's child

Chapter 3

_'What the hell are you talking about? You can't just come strutting into my house and take away my sons from me! I won't let that happen, you get it? Never ever!' John was now screaming at the top of his lungs. This frightened everybody._

_'Sir, you need to calm-' _

_'Stop telling me to calm down! I'm fine, dammit!' _

_'Listen, John, she's right. Just calm down for a moment and just hear 'em out. That won't harm anybody, would it?'_

_John couldn't say anything to the Sheriff. He was a good man and it surely wasn't his fault, he just had to do his duty whether he likes it or not. He decided to listen to those sons of bitches who'd barged in and planned on ruining his already- destroyed life by taking away his sons. _

_'Sir, we think that under the circumstances you are in right now, your sons won't be able to grow up in a, err, healthy environment,' Nicole said, wrinkling her nose as she looked around the household. Well, she was right in a way. The condition of the house wasn't what you'd call tidy. There was a layer of dust on almost every piece of furniture, the sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, there was garbage lying not inside the dust-bin, but all around it. But that was only half of it; Nicole hadn't seen the rest of the house. _

_'Well, I'll clean up,' John said blankly. This was really a stupid reason to separate him from his sons. The house could always be made cleaner and tidier._

_'No you don't understand, sir. It's not just that. What I mean is that the environment isn't very children friendly. I suppose you've taken to drinking?' she said, eyeing the bottles lying under the table._

_'Not much. I can quit drinking,' John said._

_'Very well. And from what it seems, you don't go to work either. Where is it that you work, by the way?'_

_'I have my own garage.'_

_'Lovely. So, it's decided then. Your sons will be going into foster care. I can assure that both of them will have a wonderful and joyous childhood with their new parents. You won't have to regret about messing up with their lives. I've spoken to both the parties and they're very eager to have your sons.' Nicole said, with a sense of finality in her tone. _

_'What, no! I don't agree to this! How can you even…Sheriff, what are they saying? Clearly this can't happen!' John voice was getting hysterical. He was outraged at the very thought of what Nicole had just suggested._

_The Sheriff looked at John apologetically, a tear streaming down his eyes. 'I'm so sorry, pal. This is out of my hands; I don't have any say here. Believe me when I say that I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.'_

_'Yes, he cannot do anything about this. And it doesn't matter whether you agree or disagree. The whole thing's been decided,' now she was just being plain cruel._

_Andrew shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly not liking all that was happening around him. It was evident from his expression that he'd rather be someplace else than sit here and watch this man's live go to hell._

_'I think we should get going now, the weather doesn't seem very pleasant,' saying this Nicole got up from her seat and started towards the door. _

_'Um, wait. You mentioned something about there being two parties…?' John said helplessly._

_It seemed as if this conversation had just made him grow ten years older. There were creases on his forehead and the dark circles under his eyes seemed more prominent than ever. His voice had grown hoarse and he spoke each word with a pause, like it was mighty difficult to get them out._

_'Oh, that. Well, they will be going to two different families. Both very lovely and fine families, of course. Incidentally, both the families come from a very cultured background,' Nicole went to the door as she said this and left. Andrew followed her. _

_John stood there as he received this piece of information, aghast, too traumatized to utter anything.  
Dean, who'd remained silent throughout the entire discourse, let out a horror struck sigh. He might've been only four but he had the sharpness to understand what Nicole meant when she said that last sentence._

_Well they will be going to two different families._

_This sentence kept on playing in Dean's head, shattering his heart into pieces beyond repair._

_'Sammy…' he mouthed._

_Dean turned his head to look at his little brother, who looked back with his bright twinkling eyes and dimpled face, unaware of the nightmare his life was about to become, oblivious to fact that he'd just been separated from his family._


	4. Chapter 4

Fate's child

_Chapter 4_

_12 years later_

_24__th__ January, 1995_

_The memories of his horrendous past still haunted him, making his present no less than a nightmare.  
Today's Dean's birthday, he'll be turning 16. John wondered where his son might be. Maybe he was celebrating this day with his friends in some posh, two storied condo with a huge swimming pool and a big lawn, or maybe he was just sitting all by himself, all alone, no one to share his joy with. Then his mind wandered towards thoughts about his younger son, Sam. Maybe Sam was getting beaten up by his parents; he shuddered at the thought and forced his mind to think something else. No, both of must be happy wherever they were. They had their mother watching after them, even if he couldn't. He knew in his heart and soul that Mary would never let harm come into their sons' way._

_As John lay on the torn and tattered sofa, with its springs all coming out, his mind pondered to the day Sam and Dean were sent away to their foster parents._

'_**So, I think everything's settled then,' said Nicole in her ever-so superior voice.**_

_**John looked down at the marbled floor of his living room, his fingers clenched into fists, fighting the urge to cry. But he couldn't cry, no. He'd have to wait till everybody was gone; crying in front of his sons was the last thing he wanted.**_

'_**Oh, and one more thing Mr. Winchester, you cannot keep any contact with the kids. It's for their and your own good. I'm sure you understand that, sir,' said Nicole.**_

'_**Yes, I do. Now, please can we get over with this?'**_

_**In spite of saying so, John wished that this moment would last a little longer. He wanted to be with his sons, even if it was just a second longer.**_

'_**Okay, so Mr. and Mrs. Cortese will be going with Sam and Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien will be going with Dean.'**_

_**Both the parents gave an awkward smile and looked around. Clearly, they wanted to be out of there as soon as possible. Both the parties seemed like polite people, although none of them spoke much.**_

_**Dean came into the living room, clutching the handle of his brother's pram as always. He held his blue duffel bag on his other hand, all set to leave. After the death of Mary, Dean had become unusually quiet. He'd grown more protective of his brother, like it was the only agenda of his life. Sam on the other hand didn't change much. But, of course that was because he was only a few months old. Although, he did have an affinity towards Dean more than anyone else.**_

_**Nicole gestured towards the door and everybody got up to leave. Mrs. Cortese went over and freed the handle from Dean's tiny fingers rather forcibly and wheeled the pram towards the door. John picked up Sam for one last time, kissed his forehead and gently placed him back on his pram. Sam made a strange grunting noise, forming spit bubbles in his mouth. Mrs. Cortese laughed. John turned to hug Dean but he just ignored his father and stepped forward, unbolting the door.**_

'_**Please take care of them,' John's voice came out hoarse.  
Both the families nodded. Mrs. O'Brien gave a slight reassuring smile.**_

'_**Goobaah!' Sam blurted, breaking the silence, as if bidding his family a final goodbye.**_

_It'd been twelve years since their parting and not a day went by when John didn't think about his sons, or curse himself for not being a good father and letting them go. The Winchester house, which once echoed the joy and laughter that its residents shared, now echoed the horrors and woes, sadness and loneliness, which was what John Winchester's life was all about. The white paint, which once shone in the sunrays, was now a poignant shade of grey, with moss covering the edges and dampened walls._

_John got up to go to work in his garage.  
'Happy birthday, Dean,' he said, as he fixed his eyes on a photo frame kept on a table near the door, bearing a picture of him and his family._


	5. Chapter 5

Fate's child

_._

_Chapter 5_

_ 'Happy birthday, Dean.'  
'Happy birthday, Mr. Jock!'  
'Hey, many happy returns of the day, buddy.'_

_The entire eleventh grade of Saint Lawrence School was in frenzy, wishing Dean O'Brien, the ultimate jock and heart throb of the high school, on his birthday. It was Dean's 16__th__ birthday. Girls made cards and stuck them on his locker and the guys patted his shoulder and high- fived him._

_'Yes, yes thank you very much for your wishes,' he said, exasperated with all the attention he was getting that day. _

_Dean walked on, his pace increasing, as more students came along to wish him, and entered the boy's washroom. 'Ah, peace at last.'_

_Dean O'Brien was everyone's favorite. The students of Saint Lawrence loved him and his style. They admired his rebellious attitude. Dean was adored by the girls of the school. Every month, he got hundreds of proposals. They described him as 'good looking, chivalrous and not to forget hot'. _

_It seemed that whatever he did became a trend. Dean was a fan of rock 'n' roll music, everyone listened to rock 'n' roll, whether they liked it or not. It was different with the teachers though, they considered him to be a bad example of how a student of Saint Lawrence should be. His Latin teacher, Mr. Florentine, especially loathed him. However, Dean was an excellent archer. He was Saint Lawrence's national champion in archery, and that earned him quite a name in school._

_Dean was just splashing water on his face, freshening himself up, to go face another round of birthday wishes. This day was turning out to be pretty tiring. Amidst thoughts, Dean heard someone sniffing and blowing their nose. Probably some douche, he thought. But then, as he was about to leave the washroom, he felt, like an inner voice, telling him to check up on the sniffing guy. _

_'Hey, are you okay?' Dean called aloud. He felt stupid, interfering into some else's problems. If the guy wanted to cry, no one should stop him. But he called out again, anyway. 'Hey, anybody there? Are you alright?'_

_'Yes, I'm there,' a voice answered back. From the tone, Dean understood that it must be a kid._

_'Well, do you have a name?'_

_'Yes, I do. Samuel Cortese,' the kid answered back._

_'Okay, Samuel Cortese, why are you crying?' Dean tried to make his voice gentle, so as to not frighten the crying kid._

_There was no answer for a while, and then Dean heard the lock on the bathroom door unlock. A skinny boy of around 12 years came out. He had bright, twinkling eyes and a dimpled face. The boy seemed shy, his eyes and nose were a rosy hue of red, what with all the crying and nose- blowing. He slung a black bag with the logo of a famous sports gear company, he held two big, fat books which had pages coming out and dog eared edges. _

_'Hi, I'm Dean O'Brien,' Dean said, breaking the awkward silence. Clearly, this Samuel kid didn't speak much._

_'I'm Samuel Cortese.'_

_'Yeah, you said. Now, why've you been crying?'_

_'They made fun of me,' Samuel croaked._

_'Dude, you gotta be more specific. Who made fun of you? Do they have any names? And, why did they?' Dean seemed to be getting impatient by the minute. _

_'Mike and Shane, they're in my class. I was walking down the hallway and they tripped me over and then…and then, they were laughing and everyone else, they all just joined in.'_

_'Ugh, stupid kids. They seriously need to get a life. C'mon, do you know where they are right now?'_

_'Yes, out in the field, they're playing catch.'_

_'Let's go teach 'em a good lesson,' Dean said, like he had a mission to complete._


	6. Chapter 6

Fate's child

_._

_Chapter 6_

_'You didn't really have to do that, you know,' Samuel said._

_'Yeah, well, you were doing hell of a job before I came along and took over,' replied Dean tartly._

_The two of them, Dean O'Brien and Samuel Cortese, were sitting outside the principal's office.  
Their breaths were ragged and they looked nervous. Especially Samuel, who kept clicking his pen continuously. _

_'Stop it, will you!' Dean yelled.  
'I'm sorry, I do this when I'm scared and nervous,' Samuel said weakly.  
'Well, there's nothing to be scared about. I'll manage everything. All you gotta do is keep shut and let me do the talking, get it?'  
'Yeah, okay.'_

_'Samuel and Dean? You're being called in the Principal's office, now,' the Principal's assistant called them with an expression of great annoyance adorning her squirrel-like face._

_When Samuel had told Dean about Mike and Shane, the two boys in his class who always bullied them, Dean had decided that it was time they got a taste of their own medicine. He, along with Samuel at his side, had, marched out of the washroom and gone straight to the playground to kick their sorry asses. Well, literally. One of their friends had gone and tattled the whole scenario to their teacher and thus, Samuel and Dean ended up outside the Principal's office._

_'Well, well. Who do we have here?' said Father Dominic, the Principal of Saint Lawrence School._

_'I'm Dean O'Brien and this is Samuel Cortese,' Dean introduced himself and Samuel._

_'Alright, now I've come to know that you two, er, did something you shouldn't have done. Am I right?'_

_'No, sir. He didn't do a thing. In fact, Sammy here was trying to talk me out of the whole thing. But, I just had to teach them a lesson. And, as far as the whole 'doing something I shouldn't have done' thing is concerned, I think Mike and Shane had it coming,' Dean said defiantly._

_'Alright, calm down now, son. I'm not going to punish either of you.'_

_'What, why not?' Samuel blurted out.  
Dean nudged him hard with his elbow, signaling him to keep his cakehole shut._

_'Because, what you did is justified. You didn't do it for no reason, did you son?' Father Dominic asked kindly._

_'Uh, no. I did it because they were bullying this kid. And, they even had a lame nickname for him. Something like, Samuel McNerdy, right?' Dean said._

_Samuel nodded shyly._

_'Alright, you don't have to worry about those two now. I'll see to it that they stop their bullying and don't mess with your little brother or anyone for that matter. Now, hop along to class.'_

_'Little brother?' Samuel echoed._

_'Sir, he's not my brother or anything. I just met him in the boys' room, like an hour ago. We don't even know each other,' Dean said, surprised that the Principal thought this geeky kid was his little brother._

_'He isn't? Well, I must say, I thought he was. The way you were acting, standing up for the kid you didn't even know, that's commendable. Keep it up, boy. Anyhow, you must get back to your classes. I don't want to keep you from your lessons,' Father Dominic said. He went ahead and opened the door of his office and smiled._

_Samuel and Dean came out of the office and looked at each other for a second.  
'So, uh, watch out, kiddo.'  
'Yeah, I will. Thanks for helping me.'  
'Don't mention it. Now, get back to class.'  
'Yeah, see you later.'_

_Samuel and Dean went to their respective classes, parting their ways once again._


	7. Chapter 7

Fate's child

_Chapter 7_

_Latin class was always a pain in the ass for Dean. More than the subject, he couldn't stand his Latin teacher Mr. Florentine. And, the feeling was mutual. It was absolutely impossible for the two of them to stay in the same room for more than an hour, which was good, since their classes lasted for exactly one hour. It was as if the two were born enemies. Like a mongoose and a snake._

_That day was no different. Dean had got detention for not doing his homework and also for coming late to class. Half an hour late. Mr. Florentine hadn't been in a very good mood that and Dean's actions had only infuriated him furthermore. Mr. Florentine even wrote a letter to his parents asking them to meet him after school so that he could brief them about his son's activities in class._

_'Man, I'm so screwed this time!' Dean muttered to himself, as he walked out of his class, to detention._

_Dean wasn't exactly a regular at detention classes but he had a name, especially for his feats in his Latin classes that often earned him a pass to attend detention._

_'Yo, Dean! Latin class again?' Tyler, a boy from Dean's class called out to him. He was the ultimate prankster at Saint Lawrence and a regular at detention._

_'Yahtzee. What'd you do this time?' Dean enquired._

_'I glued the librarian to her chair,' Tyler answered back proudly._

_'Ouch!'_

_There was someone at detention that day who wasn't a regular. Heck that must've been the first time he'd even stepped inside the detention class. It was Samuel Cortese._

_'Hey, kiddo what're you doing here?' Dean asked, a little taken aback by Samuel's presence._

_'I punched Mike, he'd called me McNerdy again,' Samuel said. Dean could've sworn he saw him smirking._

_'Whoa, I shouldn't say so but well done!' Dean said, genuinely happy to hear the news._

_'Thanks, I hope they don't mess with me again.'_

_'Dude, after this, even I'd think twice before messing with you,' Dean said with wide eyes full of excitement. Even though he didn't know the kid, he'd already started feeling like he'd known him for ages. There was a sense of belonging, a feeling of closure that he felt towards little McNerdy. Dean deliberated about this and soon changed his train of thoughts, worried he was sounding stupid in his head._

_'It was nothing,' Samuel said matter-of- factly, clearly enjoying all the attention he was getting._

_Just then the Principal's assistant came in and announced, 'Dean O'Brien, you're being called in the Principal's office right now. Your parents are here and Father Dominic would like to speak to you.'_

_'Aw, man. I thought they were coming tomorrow,' Dean's voice became disappointed and he lost all his excitement._

_'Good luck,' Samuel whispered earnestly as Dean got up to leave.  
It seemed that Mr. Florentine intended on getting his payback as soon as he could. _


	8. Chapter 8

Fate's child

_Chapter 8_

_Dean sauntered in through the gates of Saint Lawrence with a sullen expression on his face. He had his bag slung across his left shoulder. He wore a brown leather jacket; his favorite jacket._

_'Dude, what up?' Tyler, Dean's detention buddy called out to him._

_'Hey, not much,' Dean replied back._

_'So, what happened that day after detention? Why'd your parents get called?'_

_'Oh, I don't know. That son of a bitch Florence must've been having a bad day and calling my parents and having my ass kicked was the only way to cheer him up,' Dean said sarcastically._

_'So, what'd your dad say?'_

_'No allowance for this month.'_

_'Ouch, that's harsh, man!'_

_'Yahtzee, and I really needed the money to buy the carburetor for the Impala.'_

_'You didn't find it in the junkyard that you discovered a miles outta town?'_

_'Nope, I was gonna buy that from this garage store that had almost all the parts that I needed for the rebuilding,' Dean explained._

_'What're you rebuilding?' a voice asked from behind Dean. He almost jumped when he turned and saw that the voice belonged to Samuel._

_'Jeez! Are you following me?' Dean asked, almost yelling._

_'Uh, no. I happened to be passing by when I heard you both talking. I'm sorry for eavesdropping.' Samuel replied._

_'Well, don't go eardropping on others, kiddo.'_

_'It's eavesdropping, not eardropping.' Samuel corrected Dean's mistake.'_

_'Yeah, I get it.' Dean scoffed. 'But, why am I even talking to you?'_

_'Your dad stopped your monthly allowance, right? Well, my parents are going out for a vacation for a few days and they're looking for a babysitter who can stay with me while they're away. You interested in the job?' Samuel asked, all business- like._

_'Are you fucking kidding me? I'm not so desperate that I'm gonna pull off a Nanny Diaries!' Dean seemed genuinely outraged at the thought of babysitting._

_'Alright, but they'll pay you well. That way, you might even raise the money for your, uh carbonator.'_

_'It's carburetor, not carbonator, kiddo.' This time Dean got the chance to correct Samuel and have his payback._

_'Yeah, I get it. So you game or what?' Samuel asked._

_'I'll think about it.' That's all Dean said and strutted towards his class._

_'Who's that kid?' Tyler asked, as they entered their world history class. This was the only class they had together, besides detention, that is._

_'He's nobody. Now, shut up and give me your notebook. I haven't done the homework.'_

_'So, you're going to be babysitting a kid?' Dean's dad, Andrew O'Brien, asked him._

_'Yeah, dad.'_

_'And you're doing this, why?'_

_'So that I can earn myself some money. You stopped my allowance, remember?' Dean said acidly._

_'And I still think that what I did was a good thing. At least it got you moving your ass and getting a job.'_

_'But, will you be alright? You'll be there with that kid for almost a week,' Dean's mother, Martha, asked worriedly. Her brows were creased and she was pacing about._

_'Mom, I'm sixteen, I think I can take care of myself,' Dean replied, exasperated. His mother worried too much, even about the most trivial things. He knew she did it because she loved him but it'd feel nice if she quit fretting about him._

_'Well, okay. Don't forget to take your stuff. Should I pack some food?' Martha asked. The last thing she wanted was her son to go to sleep hungry._

_'I'm not going to fight a war, mom! They will have some arrangement for food,' Dean said, starting to lose his patience. All these questions were making Dean hungry._

_'Alright, you two. Get moving now, I'm getting late for work.'_

_Dean walked up the stairs and went inside his room to get his bag. The room wasn't you'd call 'spanking clean'; there was a sweatshirt here, a book there (Latin studies, to be specific). The tidiest part of his room was the shelf beside the bay window where he kept his music collection. CDs of Mettallica, Blue Oyster Cult, Deep Purple, and others adorned the teakwood shelf. Dean's music collection was his most prized possession and he was proud to own these invaluable gems. _

_He stopped on his way to the door, looked at the shelf containing the CDs with an affectionate expression on his face and sighed a happy sigh._


	9. Chapter 9

Fate's child

_Chapter 9_

_Dean got of his dad's car and stepped onto the driveway.  
'Be good, okay? I don't them complaining that the babysitter wrecked up their house or something,' Dean's dad warned him as he reversed the car out of the driveway.  
'Yeah, dad. Bye.'_

_Dean walked up the porch steps and rang the doorbell. There was an antique brass vase that stood near the door. It had some really intricate designs on it and seemed to be quite expensive. 'Stupid, phony people. What if someone picks it up and makes a run for it. They oughta know better than to put such pricey stuff outside their door,' Dean thought to himself._

_He looked around a little more. There was a black SUV parked in the driveway. There was lawn that had little white benches and a stone pathway running all through the middle of the lawn. There were plants of all sorts growing here and there to add to the beauty of the lawn. Everything screamed perfection but somehow, it all seemed lifeless._

_Dean's thoughts were interrupted by a woman who finally opened the door. She was of medium height, with strawberry blonde hair and beady little eyes. Her face was fixed in an unpleasant frown that Dean guessed was a permanent feature on her face. _

_'Yes?' she said, frowning further. Her face looked like that of an angry leprechaun._

_'Hello, Mrs. Cortese. I'm here for the nanny job.'_

_'Oh, you must be Dean. Yes, Samuel told us about you. Please, come inside.'_

_Dean entered into the Cortese household. From the moment he'd entered their driveway, he knew these folks were stinking rich. And the interior of their house just went on to prove Dean right. The living room had a huge chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling. There was a swanky leather sofa with a scarlet hue. There were show pieces and souvenirs of all kinds and from all places. Surely, the Cortese family loved travelling._

_'Please, have a seat. Would you like a drink?' Mrs. Cortese was high on the manners and decencies. Almost all her sentences started with 'please'._

_Just then Samuel entered with his dad right behind him. Samuel saw Dean sitting on the sofa awkwardly and smiled at him as Dean nodded back._

_'Well, good morning, darling. Is breakfast ready?' Mr. Cortese said._

_'Yes, dear,' his wife replied._

_'Lovely! But who is this nice young man sitting over there on our sofa?' Samuel's dad asked, half- bewildered._

_'His name is Dean, dad. I told you he was interested in the nanny job, remember?' Samuel said._

_'Oh, of course I remember. So, you really interested in the job?' Mr. Cortese looked at Dean and asked him with a very stern expression on his face._

_'Yes, sir. I am interested in the job,' Dean mumbled._

_'Are you sure?'_

_Was he recruiting him to assassinate the President or something? From the way, Mr. Cortese said, it seemed that Dean was being interviewed for a very important and dangerous job._

_But all Dean said was, 'Yes, sir.'_

_'Alright, are you into drugs?'_

_'What?'_

_'Booze?'_

_'What?'_

_'Smoking? Poker?'_

_'What are you talking about?'_

_'I'm sorry, I just want to make sure you're not decadent or immoral. You see, we wouldn't want our son under any bad influence.'_

_'Bad influence? Dude, if was a bad influence, I wouldn't even take up this gig in the first place! So you shut up and be thankful that I agreed to do this stupid job or I swear I'll bury you and your stupid little phony wife into that stupid garden of yours!' Dean's face was burning with anger as he thought up this reply in his mind but all he could say to their faces was, 'Yes, sir.' Dean hated himself for wanting this job so bad. All this because I had to buy stuff for my car. _

_'So, I and my wife here,' he gestured toward Mrs. Cortese, who was standing by the table, buttering the toasts. 'We, um, are going out for a little holiday to Hawaii for five days. You see, I travel a lot 'cause of my business and hardly get to spend time with my lovely family. So we thought of taking some time off. But Samuel's nanny, Maria, her daughter is getting married, so she needed some time off. That's why you're here.' _

_'You can't just take your son with you? Then you wouldn't have to take the trouble of finding a suitable nanny and all,' Dean said, a little confused._

_'Ah, yes. You see, Samuel here, the studious little boy that he is, doesn't want to miss school. He says he has a lot of tests this week and these scores will be added to his mid-term scores. And, our little Einstein, doesn't wanna miss them, even if it means going on a holiday to Hawaii,' Mr. Cortese said proudly and looked at his son and winked._

_'Dad, I really wanted to go but Mr. Carver said that these tests are very important and-'_

_'I know, I know son. You don't have to justify your decision. It's just that sometimes I forget how dedicated you are to your studies, just like your old man.' _

_Dean felt like puking out the pancakes he'd had for breakfast into the vase that was kept beside his sofa. How much more cheesy and schmaltzy could these folks get?_

_'Oh, I completely forgot! Dean, how much do you charge?' Mr. Cortese became all business- like now, discussing the amount Dean would charge for the job._

_'Huh?' Dean, on the other hand, seemed a little taken aback._

_'I mean, how much do we pay you? I think twenty dollars per night should suffice?'_

_'Per night? That makes it hundred bucks for five days. Woah, even a hooker doesn't charge that much!'_

_'What?' all the three members of the Cortese family said together._

_'What, no I mean, I'm just guesstimating y'know? It's not like I know the exact fee or something. Uh, I think I should leave now,' Dean kept fumbling_


	10. Chapter 10

Fate's child

_**Chapter 10**_

_'Goodbye, Samuel!'_

_'Bye, dad! Bye, mom!'_

_'Take care of him, alright Dean?'_

_'Yes, sir.'_

_'Call us if anything happens. Okay?'_

_'Yes, sir. I will.'_

_'So, now it's just the two of us. What d'you wanna do?' Dean asked Samuel._

_'Homework.' Samuel said._

_'Huh, okay.'_

_Samuel was busy with his homework. He was sitting on his study desk and solving some really tough math problems. Dean, on the other hand, had nothing much to do in this huge house. He'd been strolling around the house, checking out every nook and corner since the past hour and so far nothing had interested him. Every room he saw, every statue, every photo frame, they all seemed to lack something. They all seemed out of place and cold._

_Dean entered Samuel's study room and saw him sharpening his pencil. The room was smaller than the other rooms of their house, but it was pretty huge for any normal house. There were polished shelves of expensive timber decked with all sorts of books available. This little 'study room' was no less than a library._

_'So, this is your study room?' Dean asked, slumping down on one of the chairs that was kept beside the colossal table where all of Samuel' school books lay._

_'No, it's my dad's. But he lets me come in to do homework. This is my favorite room in the house, you know,' Samuel said._

_'Oh, alright. Hey, so, do you like music?' Dean realized that he was trying to make small talk with the kid. What was wrong with him?_

_'Yeah, I guess.'_

_'Do you like Zeppelin? Metallica?'_

_'They're okay, I guess.'_

_'Okay? Just okay? Nothing else? Are you not aware of their awesomeness?' Dean could feel himself firing up._

_'Whoa, calm down.'_

_'Calm down? You just said that Zeppelin and Metallica, they're 'okay'. Dude, they're not just okay, they're legends. You get that? Legends.'_

_'I get it now.' Samuel said, trying hard to hide his grin. Samuel realized that Dean easily got taunted and he found that extremely amusing._

_'Okay, good.' Dean said, relieved that he was able to make the kid realize the greatness of these bands. Although, he still had a feeling that Samuel still thought the bands were 'okay'. He shuddered at the thought. Man, this kid had no taste in music._

_'So, uh, Samuel, that's a pretty, uh, heavy name,' Dean said_

_'What?' Samuel couldn't really understand what Dean meant by that._

_'I mean, your name, it's very heavy, y'know? I mean, don't you have like, a short form for your name?'_

_'What are you talking about, Dean? Short form for my name?'_

_'Yeah, like Sam or maybe Sammy. What do your parents call you?' Dean asked._

_'They call me Samuel.'_

_'What? Like all the time?'_

_'Yeah, why?'_

_'It seems weird, you know? Like too formal and like 'Samuel, would you like to have a cup of tea?' Kinda like your mom.'_

_'What?'_

_'What?'_

_There was a long silence that followed. Dean felt like an idiot. Why couldn't he just shut up and mind his business. Why'd he care so much about what the kid's parents called? They could call him whatever they wanted to. Dean decided to shut up for good._

_'I kinda liked the name you mentioned before,' Samuel said, breaking the extended silence._

_'What name?' Dean asked._

_'The short form for Samuel.'_

_'Sammy?'_

_'No, no, no. God, not that. The other one. Sam.'_

_'Huh, I liked that too,' Dean said._

_'Hey, can I keep it?' Samuel asked, asking Dean's permission, like he was his elder brother._

_'Yeah, sure. Knock yourself out. It's your name after all,' Dean said._

_'Okay, then. Sam it is,' Samuel, or rather Sam, said, content with his new name._

_'Alright, now Sammy. Let's get dinner, I'm hungry,' Dean said, getting up from his sofa._

_'Whoa, it's Sam, okay? Not Sammy.'_

_'Yeah, whatever bitch. I'm hungry.'_


	11. Chapter 11

Fate's child

_**Chapter 11**_

_'Dean, dinner's served,' Sam called out to Dean who was strolling in the driveway._

_'Finally! I thought you were planning to starve me to death,' Dean joked as he made his way into the house and entered the kitchen –cum dining. He sat down on one of the stools kept in front of the kitchen table and waited for Sam to serve dinner._

_'Here you go,' Sam said and kept an expensive china plate that was now laden with food in front of Dean._

_Sam pulled his chair and began munching on his dinner when all of a sudden Dean said, 'Are you kidding me? This is dinner?'_

_'Yeah, Maria made these so that we don't have to worry about food for the first few days. There's more in the fridge. Why, you don't like it?'_

_'Uh, okay. Maybe you haven't noticed, but this, I mean dinner, it's not for humans, y'know? It's more like, let me put it this way…this is what COW'S EAT! THIS IS FRIGGIN' COW FODDER! AND YOU EXPECT ME TO EAT THIS?' Dean was screaming at the top of his lungs._

_'Easy, man. Calm down. So you don't like salads?' Sam said, in between bites._

_'Does it look like it?' Dean said, exasperated._

_'Alright, but what are you gonna have now? There's nothing else to eat right now. Except of course the salad.'_

_'No meat?'_

_'No, I don't think so. My mom's vegetarian and I'm not really, what you'd call crazy about meat either,' Sam explained._

_'What about your dad?'_

_'He hardly stays here.'_

_'Okay, weird family,' Dean muttered to himself. Out loud he said, 'That's fine. I won't die if I skip dinner one night.' He got up, threw his food in the bin, kept the plate in the sink and came back and settled down in his chair._

_Sam was busy eating his dinner when his eyes fell on Dean. He seemed restless and kept staring and Sam's dinner, sometimes his eyes darted to the kitchen and then back to Sam's plate. He could tell that Dean was hungry. Very hungry. Sam got up from his chair and went straight to the kitchen cabinet. He took out a box of cereal, put a generous amount of it in a big bowl and kept it in front of Dean. Sam, then went to the fridge and took out a carton of milk. Keeping the carton beside the bowl, he said, 'Here, eat this.'_

_Dean looked at Sam for a second, poured the milk in the bowl and began gobbling down large spoonfuls of cereal with milk._

_Sam grinned and said, 'And you said you could skip dinner.'_

_'Shut up,' Dean said with his mouth full._

_Sam couldn't help but grin again. 'I'm sorry we don't have anything good to eat. I'll tell Maurice to go to the supermarket and bring something that's, um, worth your appetite.'_

_'Who's Maurice?' Dean asked in between bites._

_'He's our gardener. Since Maria's not here, mom asked him to do some of the extra chores.'_

_'You have a gardener? Wow, you people must be stinkin' rich!' Dean exclaimed._

_'I'm sorry, what?' Sam was a little taken aback._

_'No, I mean, you guys are pretty well off, aren't you? Gardener and nanny and everything.'_

_'Haha, yeah, I guess.'_

_'So what does your dad do anyway?'_

_'He co-owns a chain of retail stores that supplies sports gear. Have you heard of Stuart and Cort?'_

_'Your dad owns Stuart and Cort? That's like the best shop ever! I mean, they have everything!'_

_'He co-owns it. Anyway, that's why he has to travel so much. They have branches in quite a few cities.'_

_'I know that. Chicago, Seattle, Dallas and so many other places I don't even know the names!' _

_Sam shrugged and said, 'Yeah but that also means he has to stay away most of the time. Dad hardly stays in Lawrence for more than a week.'_

_'Oh, I didn't realize that,' Dean said, feeling really sorry for the kid._

_'That's okay. I'm used to it now. Although, my mom misses him a lot sometimes. Anyway, what does your dad do?' Sam asked, changing the topic._

_'Oh, he works at the bank. And that means that he never has to leave Lawrence. Ever.'_

_'And that's not a good thing?'_

_'Oh, no, I don't mean that. It's just that sometimes, he gets a little too strict and stern you know? Sometimes I find it hard to connect with him, you know what I mean? I guess you don't but yeah, that's about it.'_

_'As a matter of what I do know what you mean. I kinda feel the same way.' Sam replied._

_'You do? Well, then maybe you should've gone to the trip with your parents.'_

_'And bore myself to death?'_

_'How can you be bored with your family?'_

_'Oh, trust me, you can. I feel like a complete misfit when I'm around them. Like they're these two people who're having bucket loads of fun and I'm this little miserable thing ruining it all for them and for myself.'_

_'Is that why you didn't wanna go?'_

_'Yeah, that and I'd hate missing my English test this week.'_

_'Nerd.' Dean said, as he got up from his chair. Sam replied him with a 'Shut up.' And shoved him against the sink._


	12. Chapter 12

Fate's child

_**Chapter 12**_

_Dean was softly snoring, his breathing even and rhythmic. He was sleeping in the guest room that was right beside Sam's bedroom. The guest room had a window opposite the bed; beams of sunlight reflected from the glass panes which made the features on Dean's face more prominent. He was curled up on his side, in peaceful slumber when Sam entered the room. He opened the door slowly and tip-toed into the room, so as to not make any sort of noise._

_'Dean? Dean, wake up. It's time for school.' Sam whispered softly. He didn't want to scare Dean or surprise him while he was asleep._

_'Dean, wake up. We'll be late for school. C'mon, now it's morning already.'_

_'Whaa? Mom, two min's.'_

_'What? No, I'm not your mom. I'm Sam, remember? You're here, baby-sitting me, remember?'_

_'Shut up. I know who you are, bitch,' Dean said, eyes still closed._

_'Bitch? Why'd you call me….'_

_Dean interrupted Sam. 'Why are you trying to gatecrash my fantasy?' Dean questioned, finally sitting up on the bed._

_'What fantasy?' Sam enquired._

_'Sorry, can't tell ya. It ain't PG-13, kiddo,' Dean smirked as he said this._

_'Whatever. You have to get ready, the driver has already arrived.'_

_'Wait. You have a driver? Oh, right. I forgot your dad was the owner of Stuart and Cort.'_

_'Co-owner. And, please can we not talk about it?' Sam said._

_'Suit yourself, Grumpy.' Dean said and yawned without even bothering to cover his mouth. Sam snorted and said, 'Don't doze off again, Sleeping Beauty.'_

_Dean and Sam were busy having their breakfast and getting ready for school when the telephone kept in the living room rang. Dean got down from the kitchen table where he was sitting with his bowl of cereal and went over to pick up the phone. He picked up the phone on the sixth ring._

_'Samuel? Is everything okay? Why'd it take you so long to pick up the phone? Did that Dean kid do something wrong? Are you alright?' Mr. Cortese said from the other end._

_'No, it's not Sam.'_

_'Oh. Dean is that you?' Mr. Cortese asked, his voice ringing with anxiety._

_'Well, yeah. So, um, awkward moment.'_

_'Oh. I'm sorry, young man. You know how a father's heart is, don't you? Well, you probably don't but one day I'm sure you will. You must excuse me for what I said; when it comes to Samuel, I'm a tad too protective, you know?'_

_'Yeah, get to the point, Daddy Long Legs,' Dean thought._

_'Hello? Dean? Are you there? Is everything fine?' Mr. Cortese said from the other end of the line._

_'Yeah, everything's just peachy. Here, talk to Sam, I mean Samuel,' Dean quickly passed the phone to Sam, who was now standing next to Dean._

_'Hello? Dad? Hey, how's the trip going?' Sam asked._

_Meanwhile, Dean stood beside Sam and thought- If he was so worried about his son, why didn't he cancel the trip then? Spending time with your children is supposed to be more important than some trip to Hawaii, wasn't it? Then why leave Sam here all alone?_

_Dean felt sorry for the kid. Just then Sam hung up the phone and said, 'C'mon, it's time for school.'_

_'So, what'd he say?' _

_'The usual,' Sam said._

_'And what's that s'posed to mean?' Dean questioned._

_'That they're having fun but they would have more fun if I was with them.'_

_'I'm sure they're missing you.'_

_'Yeah, sure,' Sam said and walked out the door towards their car._


	13. Chapter 13

Fate's child

**Chapter 13**

Dean was in his world history class. The teacher was droning about some war that took place before he was even born in a country, the name of which he didn't know. Dean couldn't care less, he was staring out the window at the guard who was sitting by the school's main gate; fast asleep.

The teacher caught Dean not paying attention and called out his name. Dean answered at the fourth call when the teacher screamed his name. 'Uh, what?' he asked as the teacher paced around the classroom, his face red with fury.

'I'd just asked a question to the class. Can you tell me what it is?' the teacher asked, trying hard to keep himself came.

Shit! There was no way out of this one now, Dean thought. He looked around, trying to recall that unheard question. He looked at his friend Tyler who seemed equally clueless.

'Yes, Mr. O'Brien? I think I asked you something, didn't I? Care to answer?' the teacher said acidly.

Just then, as if an angel had come to his rescue, the Principal's assistant came into the room and called for Dean. 'Is Dean O'Brien here? Please come to the office,' she said.

The teacher felt defeated, missing the opportunity of catching Dean red-handed while he wasn't paying attention. Next time, I'll catch that brat, he thought.

Dean was relieved to have been called to the Principal's office although he wondered why. They came across Father Dominic on their way, standing in front of the sick room with a worried expression on his face. 'Morning, Mr. O'Brien. I believe you're currently in charge of Mr. Cortese?' he asked.

'Yeah, Sam's parents aren't in town so I'm just babysitting the kid,' Dean replied. He couldn't understand what their Principal would have to do with this.

'Oh, well then, you're the guardian at the moment. Actually, he needs to be taken home,' Father Dominic said.

'What? Why? What'd he do?' Dean asked, panic rising in his voice.

'He didn't do anything. It's just that he's a little sick,' Father Dominic said.

'What? Where's he? Where's Sam? Is he okay?' Dean said, now fully panic-stricken.

'He's inside,' the Principal said, gesturing towards the sick room.

Dean quickly turned and barged into the sick room. He found Sam lying on the bed, sheepishly smiling at Dean. 'Hey,' he said when Dean entered the room and rushed towards Sam.

'Are you alright?' Dean asked.

'Yeah, I'm fine, Dean. There's nothing to worry about now,' Sam said, trying to calm him down.

'Yeah, right,' Dean said and turned to look at the nurse, hoping she'd provide him with the right information about Sam's sudden illness.

'He's right. There's nothing to worry about, he's just a little exhausted, that's all,' the nurse explained.

'Exhausted?'

'Yeah, he's just really tired and exhausted. That's why he almost fainted in his classroom,' the nurse added.

'Fainted?' Dean was shocked to hear this.

'Almost fainted,' Sam said softly. Dean replied him by saying, 'You shut up, Sammy.' Sam winced at the mention of 'Sammy' and decided to correct Dean later.

'You okay?' Dean asked, when he noticed Sam wincing.

'Yeah, Dean, I'm fine. I really am. You heard the nurse; I'm just tired that's all.'

'He's right. He'll be okay,' the nurse said to Dean.

'You sure?' Dean asked.

'Yes, I am. He's a growing kid; sometimes the stress gets 'em. You've got absolutely nothing to worry about. Just take him home and let him rest. He'll be up and running by the evening,' said the nurse.

'I already called up the driver and told him to come here,' Father Dominic said kindly.

'Thanks, Father,' Dean said.

He and the Father helped Sam up the bed. Sam didn't want to be carried around and insisted on walking. Father Dominic complied with his request and so did Dean but he kept eyeing Sam suspiciously as they went down the stairs.

'Take care, son,' Father Dominic said, as Sam and Dean seated themselves inside the car.


	14. Chapter 14

Fate's child

**Chapter 14**

'For the last time Dean, I'm fine!' Sam was trying to explain Dean that wasn't ill for what seemed to be the thousandth time.

'Say whatever you want but I ain't buying it, bitch!' Dean said. He was in the kitchen preparing some sort of soup that was supposed to work wonders.

'What're you cooking?' Sam asked, trying to change the topic.

'It's a vegetable soup. Very nutritious, you know,' Dean said.

'Smells awful, you know,' Sam said.

'Whatever. It tastes amazing,' Dean said to Sam. He took a whiff of it and wrinkled his nose. Sammy was right, it smelled awful. 'Alright, it's ready. Get ready to have the best vegan soup of your life,' Dean said.

'Or the worst,' Sam snorted. Dean replied him back with a snort.

Dean carried the pot to the table and poured some of it onto a bowl. He passed the bowl to Sam sitting on the chair with an apprehensive look on his face. 'Here ya go,' Dean said.

'You first,' Sam said.

'What? But this is your dinner,' Dean said.

'So? I dare you,' Sam said.

'Fine.'

Dean had no way out of this now that Sammy had dared him. I made this soup, Dean thought, it supposed to be awesome. He dipped a spoon inside the bowl and took a sip. This was officially the worst soup in his lifetime. It had a weird taste almost like sweat. He tried hard to keep his poker face on as he turned to look at Sam. This was of no help since Sam was already grinning.

'Tastes great, doesn't it Dean?' he said, grinning.

'It tastes like a mixture of puke and sweat. If that's your definition of great, then yeah, it's great!' Dean couldn't help but grin back. Sam chuckled and then the two of them started laughing.

'Oh, my stomach hurts!' Sam said, rolling with laughter.

'Mine too. But we got a real problem now. What do we eat, Sam?'

'Do you like pizza?'

'Yeah, I do. But I don't have enough money to pay for the two of us.'

'Don't worry. I got that covered.'

'What, you gonna bust open your daddy's safe?'

'No! I have some money saved.'

Sam and Dean ordered a large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and toppings. They gulped it down with cans of coke and had a fulfilling dinner.

They were cleaning the dishes when Dean noticed Sam massaging his forehead with one hand. Dean didn't think it to be something serious but rushed to his side when Sam swayed a little.

'Sam. You okay?' he knelt beside Sam as he said this.

'Yeah, I…I just…my forehead…'

'Sammy? Are you alright, kid?'

Sam was unable to stand still, he swayed from side to side and Dean caught him just in time as he was about to bump his head on the table. 'Whoa, careful there, buddy.'

Dean helped Sam up the marble stairs towards his room. Dean laid Sam down on his bed and slumped on the floor beside him. Sam kept mumbling that his head ached terribly and this made Dean all the more miserable. It was pretty late in the night and there wasn't anyone around to help. He didn't even know any doctor who could come at that hour and check up on Sam.

He thought of calling Sam's parents but what good would that bring? They were out in Hawaii having a nice time while their son was suffering. And it wasn't like they'd catch the first flight and come running to their kid if Dean told them about it. If they cared so much, they wouldn't have left him here in the first place. Then he thought of calling his own parents but that wouldn't help either. They'd just get worried and lose their sleep.

For the first time in his life, Dean was scared. He felt terrified. There have been many troublesome times that he'd had face in the past but never, was he scared. Dean felt helpless; he had no idea what to do next. He just sat there on the floor beside the bed and kept staring at the sick kid. He didn't even realize when his eyes drooped down and he slipped into oblivion.

When Dean woke up, after about half an hour of sleep, he was furious at himself for having slept. There was a sick kid by his side and he was sleeping instead of looking after him! Dean's gaze fell on Sam and he saw that he was asleep but he kept tossing and turning. Sam's breathing was sharp and ragged, like he was having a lot of difficulty even to perform the simple task of breathing.

As if out of his reflexes, Dean placed his hand on Sam's forehead. He realized that the kid was burning with fever. 'Shit, Sammy you're burning.' This gave rise to the panic and helplessness that he'd been feeling sometime back.

Dean was pacing round the room thinking what to do next when he remembered something his mother did when he fell sick. Instantly, he went downstairs into the kitchen and procured a fresh piece of cloth. He then filled a bowl with water from the sink and carried the things upstairs to Sam's room.

Dean placed the items on the floor and sat down in his initial place. He folded the piece of cloth and dipped in the bowl of water till it was completely soaked. He took the wet cloth and placed it on Sam's forehead. Dean remembered his mother telling him that this process helped in reducing the temperature when a person had fever. He repeated this process for almost the rest of the night. At around three in the morning, he again placed his hand on Sam's forehead to check on the fever. Sam's forehead was still hot but it wasn't burning anymore. He used a thermometer just be sure. The reading indicated that the fever had subdued considerably.

Dean took the wet cloth and bowl of water and kept it back in the kitchen downstairs. He covered Sam up with three thick blankets that he'd found in Mr. and Mrs. Cortese's room.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

After checking up on Sam, Dean decided it was time for him to take a little nap. He looked at the clock on the wall and saw that it was about to be four in the morning. He thought of not sleeping at all since he'd have to wake up anyway after three hours to get ready for school. But then Sam was ill and he'd need rest, so he decided that it wouldn't hurt if he bunked school one day. Soon Dean's sleepiness took over his thought and he was snoring away before he even knew it.

That night, or rather that morning, Dean had the strangest dream ever.

He found himself standing in front of a two-storied house painted in white. The sun's beams reflected the brilliant white of the walls and doors. There was a black Impala parked in the driveway. A closer look at it confirmed that it was the 1967 Impala, the one he'd been rebuilding.

The place seemed oddly familiar, like he'd been there a long, long time ago in some other lifetime. He saw a little boy running around with a toy. As Dean took a closer look at him, he realized that the boy looked familiar. The boy looked like him. Just then he heard someone call out his name.

A sweet, familiar voice of a woman. The little boy ran towards the main door of the house. Dean followed him and saw the boy hug a woman. According to Dean, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She had beautiful eyes, long and curly blonde hair and she had the loveliest smile. Dean reckoned she was the kid's mother.

Dean went inside the house. Instantly, he felt like he was at home, but the strangest part was that he didn't even know this place. Neither did he know who these people were. Dean followed the child and his mother upstairs. They entered a room, it seemed like a nursery. Dean's eyes fell upon an infant boy in his cot. The infant had large eyes which were welled up with tears; his dimpled face was a hue of pink with all the crying. Seeing the baby cry, Dean's insides hurt, he could feel the infant's pain, he wanted to tell him that it's okay, that whatever he was crying about…Dean would _make_ it okay.

The beautiful woman, who was the mother of those two kids, pointed her finger towards a show-piece and said soothingly, 'Look Sammy, the angel will make it all okay.' Dean's eyes widened with surprise as he heard the kid call the baby 'Sammy'. Didn't he call the kid he'd been babysitting 'Sammy' as well? Dean turned his gaze towards the show-piece and saw that it was a sappy, little angel with wings, sitting crossed legged and smiling with creased and twinkling eyes.

'Yeah, yew herd Mommy, Sam. The, the, angel is lookin' afta yew, Sammy,' the kid who still clutched the toy with his tiny fingers tried to console the baby but to no avail. The baby just kept on weeping. Suddenly the kid jumped up as if he'd had the perfect idea. 'Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!' he said.

'Yes, Dean?' the beautiful woman asked. Wait, did she just call the kid 'Dean'? Well, this was strange.

The kid, who, apparently had the same name as Dean, said, 'Mommy, I know wut gots to stop Sam from cryin'…sing the song! Sing the song!' Dean said, his voice rising several octaves with excitement.

'What song?' the beautiful woman's eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out what her son was babbling about, and this made her look all the more beautiful and surreal.

The kid was losing his patience now. 'Tha one yew sing t'me! At nap time! Sing tha song, Mommy!' he screamed.

'Oh, you mean Hey Jude? Well, we could give it a try,' the woman said with a short laugh. It sounded like the tinkle of Christmas bells.

And she began to sing-

'_Hey Jude, don't make it bad  
Take a sad song and make it better  
Remember to let her into your heart  
Then you can start to make it better_

_Hey Jude, don't be afraid  
You were made to go out and get her  
The minute you let her under your skin  
Then you begin to make it better_

_And any time you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain  
Don't carry the world upon your shoulders  
For well you know that it's a fool who plays it cool  
By making his world a little colder  
Na na na, na na, na na na na'_

And surprisingly, the baby stopped crying. As the woman crooned, his weeping ceased and slowly his eyes drooped down. The woman's musical voice drowned the baby in peaceful slumber. The kid jumped up and began clapping as his mother finished her rendition of the hit song by the Beatles. 'Shh…your brother's finally asleep. We don't wanna wake him up now, do we?' the beautiful woman said. The kid stopped clapping and whispered, 'Owkay, I'm sowie Mommy. But you gots him to nots cry! I vas so happy!'

Dean couldn't help but smile at the sheer innocence of the kid, the beauty of the mother, the soft and rhythmic breathing of the sleeping infant and the love and affection that they shared. But his smile faded away and he was horrorstruck when, the next instant, the entire nursery was engulfed in flames. It seemed like he was in a different place altogether. One moment, the woman was smiling and the next he saw her stuck to the ceiling, blood dripping from her stomach. The infant had started crying again and this time, no song would stop him. Dean turned to face the other kid- he was frozen. The kid just stood there, staring into space, not moving, not crying, just frozen.

Dean wanted to scream for help, he wanted to take the kids and just run the hell out of there but he couldn't. Like the kid, he too, was frozen. The smoke was starting to get to him; Dean started having trouble in breathing. He could feel the smoke penetrating his lungs as he got into a severe coughing-fit.

And then, slowly, his vision started getting blurry. 'Help!' he wanted to scream, but nothing came out. He felt dizzy, and then….he blacked out.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

'HELP!' Dean yelled and sat upright on the floor where he'd fallen asleep. His forehead was sweaty and he was clutching the blanket between his fingers. Where'd the blanket come from? Dean's breathing was unsteady and fast and he concentrated on making it even. That helped him calm down. Almost.

'Well, that was a helluva dream!' he thought. The next moment, his eyes turned to the bed where Sam was supposed to be sleeping. Except that he wasn't; Dean instantly started to feel panicky. He quickly got up and went down the stairs-skipping two stairs at a time.

'SAM?' he screamed, as he walked towards the living room.

'What?' he said. Dean turned left, crossed the passage leading up to the kitchen and saw Sam sitting on the kitchen table with a plate full of food.

'Oh, thank goodness. When'd you wake up?' Dean enquired as he heaved a sigh of relief.

'An hour ago, I guess' Sam answered.

'Hey, you had fever last night, didn't you?' Dean quickly walked up towards the kitchen table and put his hand on Sam's forehead. The fever was gone.

'Yeah, maybe. But it was gone when I woke up. By the way, why'd you cover me up with three blankets? My clothes were dripping with sweat when I woke up.'

'Well, it kept you warm. And it helped the fever come down, didn't it?'

'Whatever. And, we missed school today! I had set the alarm clock but it didn't ring this morning,' Sam said suspiciously.

'Oh, that. Yeah, I turned it off,' Dean said, grinning.

'You what?' Sam couldn't believe it.

'Oh, c'mon Sammy! It's no big deal. So what if you miss school one day?' Dean said.

Sam opened his mouth to argue with Dean about the importance of going to school every day but all he said was, 'Thank you.'

'For what? Setting off the alarm?' Dean asked cheekily.

'For taking care of me last night. If it wasn't for you, I'd still be sick,' Sam said and smiled to acknowledge Dean for what he'd done.

'No worries, kiddo,' Dean said and returned the smile.

'I really owe you one, Dean. Thanks so much,' Sam said.

'Okay, yeah, I get it. But stop thanking me now, okay?' Dean said.

'Okay.'

'So, you're having pancakes for breakfast? With syrup?' Dean asked, eyeing the plate with lustful eyes.

'Yeah, there's more. You want some?' Sam asked.

'Well, yeah, sure. I don't mind eating pancakes. With syrup.'

'There's plenty, so you can take as much as you want,' Sam said. He could tell that Dean liked pancakes from the way he was eyeing Sam's plate.

'Who made it?' Dean asked.

'I did. There was some pancake mix left in the fridge, so I used it all up,' Sam said. 'Don't worry, it tastes better than your soup,' Sam added with a chuckle.

'You bet, bitch,' Dean snorted.

'Hey, why do you keep calling me that?' Sam asked.

'Calling you what?' Dean replied with another question.

'Bitch. I've noticed you calling me that quite a number of times. Why do you call me that?' Sam said, a little annoyed.

'Well you are one, aren't you, pretty boy?' Dean said, smirking.

'Shut up! I'm not!' Sam said defiantly.

'Of course you are. Haven't you noticed? You're always so dewy-eyed and nerdy and, and…pretty!' Dean said. He was really enjoying teasing Sam.

Well, okay. If I'm a bitch then you're, you're a…jerk!' Sam remarked.

'Jerk? Sure. That's all you could come up with?' Dean guffawed.

'Say whatever you want, jerk!'

Sam and Dean's brotherly banter was interrupted by a sudden ringing of the doorbell that startled the two of them. Both of them went to the door to open it.

'Morning, I'm FBI agent Willis,' said a man holding out an FBI ID card in front of them.

'Morning, what're you here for, Agent?' Sam questioned.

'Well, I just need to ask some questions, that's all. Is there an adult in your house?' the agent asked.

'I'm afraid not. So, why don't you let us be and go question someone else? I'm sure they'll be able to help you better,' this time Dean answered the FBI agent with a stern voice.

'I already did. And, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask _you_ some questions if your parents aren't home. Can I come in?'

'No,' said Dean. 'Yes,' said Sam. They looked at each other and said together in one voice, 'Give us a minute.'

'Sure,' the FBI agent said pleasantly. After they shut the door, he added, 'Dammit! Wonder how long I'll be stuck in this town fulla idjits!'


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

As FBI Agent Willis stood outside the door, Sam and Dean were having a heated discussion about the agent's intentions and whether they should let him in.

'Dean, he works with the FBI. Didn't you see his card?'

'I did but how can you be sure it's not a forged ID? Look, the guy seems pretty shady to me. I say, we don't open the door at all. He'll be smart enough to know that we didn't fall for his con and go away.'

'You've got to be kidding me! He's just some guy who wants to get his job done.'

'No, Sammy. I don't feel good about this. And if anything happens, I'll be the one who's responsible.'

'C'mon, Dean, we might be able to help out with a case. Maybe we can even catch the bad guy or, or save someone's life.'

'Whoa, slow down, Sherlock. I think he's just doing some routine check. That is, if he is actually a Fed.'

'Please, Dean. We're supposed to help people, right? That's what we've been taught by our parents, right? We're supposed to be good citizens, right?'

'Well, when you put it that way…'

Sam beamed at Dean and swung the door open. Dean was forced to agree with Sam. The kid gave him that dewy-eyed crap and Dean felt compelled to agree. 'Such, a bitch,' he thought. Agent Willis entered and Sam gestured him towards the sofa while Dean kept eyeing the agent with suspicious eyes.

'I hope I'm not bothering you kids?' the agent said courteously.

'Oh, no, no. This is completely fine by us,' Dean said, trying to keep his voice as sarcastic as he could. Somehow, the agent couldn't sense the sarcasm and continued with another question.

'Speaking of, what're you kids doing home? Don't you have school?' the agent asked.

'Hey, um, could you just get to the part where you ask us questions that you're supposed to and not poke your nose in our lives?' Dean said while he looked viciously at the agent.

Sam's eyes widened and he was horrorstruck to hear Dean speak that way to a Federal Agent. He quickly tried to make up for what Dean had said by saying, 'Uh, he means to say that, that, we're very eager to answer whatever questions you have for us. Am I right, Dean?'

Dean rolled his eyes in answer to Sam's question and said indifferently, 'Yeah, whatever.'

The FBI agent didn't really say much, perhaps because he couldn't care less about some bratty sixteen-year old having a problem with him doing his job. So he began his questioning without further ado so that he could the get the hell out of there pronto.

'Right, so, you must have heard about the disappearances of two children that happened in your town?' Agent Willis began.

'Well, we know squat about that. Maybe you should go ask someone-' before Dean could further piss off the agent, he was interrupted by Sam. 'As a matter of fact, I do. One of them is from my own class. His name was Alvin,' Sam gave all the information that he could.

'Alvin? Alvin Carmichael?' the agent asked.

'Yeah, that's him. He was a real bully, annoyed the hell out of me but it's a pity he's gone missing,' Sam said.

'Well, I'd say he had it coming, that little brat!' Dean said, cracking his knuckles, disappointed that he didn't get the opportunity to teach the kid a lesson for messing with Sam.

The agent once again ignored Dean and continued with his questioning. 'Okay, did he seem to be acting strange before he went missing?' he asked.

'No, not really. He seemed to be fine the whole time,' Sam said.

'Did you notice, maybe, any cold spots around him?' the agent asked.

'Cold spots? What the hell are cold spots? Mister, I gotta ask, are you even an FBI agent or are you just, I don't know, role playing or something?' Dean asked.

Before Sam could make up for Dean's supposed misdemeanor for the second time, the FBI agent spoke up, 'Listen, boy, I don't what the hell's the matter with you, and neither do I give a rat's ass about it but as long as I'm stuck here with you, doing my job, I'd expect you to keep your cakehole shut and let me do my job. Or else, I wouldn't mind shutting you up permanently with my .44.' He knew it was wrong of him to threaten a civilian in that way, but dammit, this idjit was annoying the hell out of him. He realized he liked the lanky, dimpled younger kid more than the bratty, elder one.

That shut Dean up. He didn't speak for the rest of the interview. He just sat there with the most sullen expression ever and listened as Sam answered the questions shot at him by the agent. He hated sitting there like a dummy while Sam eagerly answered all the questions. Dean's train of thoughts was interrupted when the agent's phone suddenly rang. The agent took a quick glance at the number flashing on the screen and mumbled, 'I gotta take this one.' He got up, excused himself and went to the farthest corner of the room to talk to whoever it was calling him.

'Yeah, Rufus, I'm busy now,' Agent Willis mouthed into the phone.

'Yeah, yeah I'm doin' that now. Nope, so far diddly squat,' the agent appeared to be filling in the person on the other end of the line about the case he'd been working on.

'What? You're absolutely sure? What's the name again?' he asked.

'Okay, I got it. Thanks again bud!' he said and hung up.

Agent Willis walked up towards where Sam and Dean were sitting and said, 'Well, thanks for your time. It was real helpful.'

Dean just snorted where as Sam said, 'Sure, no problem,' he got up and gestured the agent towards the door. Before leaving, the agent said, 'Take care of yourself, and uh, your brother.'

'Thanks, I guess, but Dean's not my brother,' Sam said, trying to clear the agent's false notion about him and Dean being siblings.

'He isn't? Oh, well,' saying this, the agent climbed down the porch stairs and went ahead to his grey Saturn.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Agent Willis was driving down the roads of Lawrence, searching for a suitable motel where he could spend the night. Once again, his phone rang. He picked it up on the first ring without checking the screen this time.

'Tell me you found a way to kill that mother,' he said, putting the phone on speaker and keeping it on the passenger seat beside him.

'As a matter of fact, yeah I did. Evergreen wood stakes oughta do the trick,' a voice said from the other end of the phone line.

'Alright, so now I just gotta identify who the sucker is and then gank him,' agent Willis said, relieved that the task wasn't as difficult and tedious as he'd expected it to be.

'Well, I can help you with that too. Turns out, this Dagda, was one of the oldest Celtic deities so that makes him of Pagan origin. Now, as the lore goes, he's considered as a sort of a father figure and he's also associated with fertility,' the voice on the other end of the line said.

'Looks like Daddy Cool has gone full-on bonkers,' agent Willis said with a slight chuckle.

'Yeah, real funny. Anyhoo, the two kids that have disappeared were pretty much from the same neighborhood,' the voice crackled due to some disturbance in the network. These days phones were costly and the connectivity was crappy. It was very difficult to communicate when the network caused so many disturbances.

'Yeah, I noticed that pattern too, Rufus. And there's a school there- Saint Lawrence School- and what do schools have?' the agent said.

'Children. And that must be the easiest ground for hunting preys.' Rufus, the one who had called agent Willis before when he'd been interviewing Sam and Dean, said.

'Bingo! I think it's someone from the school staff itself,' agent Willis said. He parked his Saturn in front of a motel that seemed decent enough to spend a night or two.

'Yeah, could be. Oh, and this Dagda is said to own a harp-like musical instrument and he's big into this music and stuff,' said Rufus.

'Okay, thanks. That might be useful,' agent Willis said. He picked up the phone from the passenger seat and got out of the car.

'Yeah, so I'll see you a few days later,' Rufus said from the other side of the phone line.

'Not if this son of a bitch decides to make me his dessert,' agent Willis said and hung up. He took out his stuff from the car and headed towards the motel.

He entered his motel room and placed his luggage by the single bed.

Now there was something about FBI Agent Willis that Sam and Dean did not know- he wasn't really a federal agent. His name wasn't Simon Willis either. Dean's suspicions were right. This man was a fake agent. But he was working on a case involving missing children.

No, this man wasn't some vigilante or outlaw like Batman who beat up the criminals and did what the police couldn't do. His name was Robert Stephen Singer (people called him Bobby), he owned a garage and he was a hunter. Bobby hunted all sorts of evil and supernatural beings, things that people believed didn't exist, and things that people still believe don't exist, things that are our worst nightmares. Bobby hunted them, he knew how to destroy them, and he knew how to save people's lives. Bobby pitied the people who assumed that these things didn't exist and were ignorant pretty much for the rest of their lives until they bump into one of them and are killed before they can even realize that. The problem was that these people represented almost the whole of humankind.

The hunting community was a small one. There were many in the business but not too many because not everyone could leave everything behind and take up the task of saving people's lives. Sometimes the stress of the job would get to them and they'd quit. Also, being a hunter automatically reduces one's lifespan considerably when compared to that of an average person who does not deal with monsters, sprits and other supernatural whatnots on a daily basis.

This time, Bobby had followed up a lead that brought him to Lawrence, Kansas. There had been three missing children over the past two weeks. People guessed that it must've been the job of a whacked up kidnapper or serial killer. Obviously, Bobby knew better. He decided to come and check on it just to be sure whether it was some evil paranormal entity and so far, he was convinced that it was.

All three children seemed to have just vanished into thin air. The first kid who went missing was last seen by her parents when they put her to bed, her room had one window that was locked and there was no sign of forced entry either. The second kid had gone missing while he was at school. When Bobby interviewed the boy's friends and teachers, they described nothing out of the ordinary happening when he went MIA.

Bobby found a connection between the three victims with the help of his friend, Rufus, who was a fellow hunter as well. All three children lived in the vicinity of the Saint Lawrence School, and one of them was also a student there. They figured that whoever or rather, whatever it was, was someone from the school. Rufus' research suggested that they were hunting a very old Celtic god bordering on Pagan origin known as Dagda.

Back in the good ol' days, these Gods were quite popular and were worshipped by many. Sacrifices were made in their name to please them and they fed on these sacrifices. However as the world strode towards the modern age, these Gods became less popular and rather unimportant. No one really had the time to perform complex rituals and sacrifices in their name to please them. So, as it turns out, some of them got upset and being unpopular and unwanted hurt their ego, and thus the kidnappings and killings.

As Bobby took his shower and changed into fresh clothes, all he could think about was to get his job over with. Lately, his life had become quite monotonous with just hunting and nothing else. He was planning on taking a break after he finished this gig. Of course, you could never take a break from hunting for too long because it's more of a lifestyle choice than some mere occupation. Sometimes it got lonely but that's just how it's gotta be for a hunter. Bobby decided to wind up his thoughts and get a good night's sleep. He had a lot of work to do.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Dean was sprawled on the living room sofa watching some old cowboy movie. It was around half an hour past midnight and for some reason he wasn't the least bit sleepy. Well, he did know the reason; he just didn't want to accept it. Dean feared he might have the same nightmare again- the one he'd had the previous night. The one with the two kids and their mother who died in that mysterious fire. Or did they? The ending of his dream was rather fuzzy. He didn't really remember whether those people died or not. Dean caught himself thinking about that dream again- he'd been trying real hard to divert his mind away from that thought- and instantly tried to focus on the movie.

But he just couldn't take his mind off that dream. Throughout the day, Dean had been thinking about that dream of his and images from it kept flashing in his head now and again. To anyone else, it would seem like one of those random, bizarre dreams where nothing really makes sense, but Dean wasn't willing to accept that. Everything was too specific- the house, the song that the woman sung, even the fire- like it was a long lost memory that he'd buried under heaps inside his head. Everything was kind of familiar to be just a random dream.

Dean was struggling to get those uncomfortable thoughts out of his head when Sam slowly walked towards the living room. He was in his pajamas, with disheveled hair that covered even his forehead and half open eyes. He trudged up to the sofa and saw Dean slumped on it. Sam saw that Dean was watching some crazy cowboy movie but he could tell from his face that his mind was somewhere else. His thoughts were confirmed when Dean jumped with surprise when Sam said, 'Hey!'

Dean looked as Sam walked and sat on the small couch next to him. 'You're still awake? It's pretty late, Sam,' he said. Sam rolled his eyes and replied by saying, 'You're not asleep either.'

'I ain't feeling sleepy, what's your excuse?' Dean said.

'Neither am I. Sort of,' Sam answered.

'What do you mean by 'sort of'?' Dean questioned again.

'It's nothing. I just, I just, woke up from a really horrible dream and now I don't wanna sleep,' Sam explained.

'Because you fear you might have that horrible dream and you couldn't bear to re-live that again?' Dean said, guessing from experience.

'Actually, yeah. That's exactly how I feel,' Sam admitted. 'Are you awake because you had a similar thing?' he added.

'Yeah, I guess you could say that. Anyway, it doesn't mean anything, it's just a weird dream,' Dean said.

'It has to be of some meaning otherwise why'd you dream about it in the first place, right?' Sam said.

'Whatever, it's dumb,' Dean said.

'No, c'mon, it must be something. You know, I had read somewhere that when we're asleep, our subconscious takes over and that's why whatever goes on in our subconscious mind is reflected by our dreams,' Sam explained.

'Sammy, why are you acting like a shrink?' Dean asked with irritation.

'What? No, I'm just saying it's something to think about. I mean, why else would I see some woman pinned to the ceiling on fire unless my subconscious mind hadn't been thinking of something related to that?' in his enthusiasm to explain Dean about the mechanism of dreams Sam had let out too much. He wasn't really planning on giving Dean a full account of his dream. Hell, he wasn't even planning to tell him about it.

'Come again? What'd you see in your dream?' Dean asked.

'Oh, nothing. Hey, this movie's great, isn't it?' Sam said, trying to change the subject.

'Yeah, it's great. So what were you saying about this dream of yours?' Dean had a strange feeling inside of him because the dream that Sam just described was a lot like his. How is it possible for two people to have the same dream?

'Ah, bunk it. I think you're right, it's really dumb. It is,' Sam said. He just didn't want to talk about those strange dreams that he had so often. The topic was way too weird.

Dean could sense that Sam didn't want to talk about this and he let it go. But he couldn't stop wondering, why they had that exact same dream. He'd known this kid for like, maybe two weeks and already he felt like no matter how different they were from each other, Sam was similar to him in more ways than one could comprehend. It had only been two days since Sam's parents had left and somehow, he felt like his life was supposed to be just like this. He felt like they were supposed to be together, like Sam was supposed to be a nerd, like the two of them were supposed to be pulling each other's legs all the time, like he was supposed to be Sam's babysitter- protecting him.

All this was freaking Dean out. He felt like a complete nut-case having all these stupid thoughts. He decided it was time he focused on the movie that he'd intended to watch.

Dean sat in silence trying to veer his attention towards the movie when Sam broke the silence and said, 'Hey, do you wanna have some milk with cookies? Might help you in falling asleep.'

'Do I like a friggin four year old to you, Sammy?' Dean said, annoyed.

'Hey, I was just trying to be nice,' Sam replied, raising his hands as if he were surrendering.

'Quit being such an annoying bitch, Sammy!' Dean exclaimed.

That really got Sam off and he shot back, saying, 'Quit being a jerk and calling me 'Sammy' all the time!'

'Not gonna happen, bro' Dean said with a huge grin.

Sam just rolled his eyes in reply to Dean and continued watching the movie. He didn't know what made Dean decide to watch it but the movie just didn't make any sense. Huge men wearing shiny boots and those blanket-like clothes and running around with guns was all there was to it in these cowboy movies.

After about fifteen minutes of running around and firing gun shots, the movie finally ended with all the characters dying. As the end credits rolled, Sam was relieved that the movie finally ended when Dean said, 'What an amazing movie, right Sam? By the way, I think I could use some of that milk and a few cookies. I'm kinda hungry.'

Sam couldn't help but grin at Dean's childish nature and said, 'In a minute kiddo,' to which Dean replied by shoving Sam against the sofa.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

So it was the third day of Dean's job at being Sam's babysitter while his parents were away at Hawaii. That morning, Mr. Cortese, Sam's father, had called, just as they were about to leave home for school. Sam spoke for a few minutes, telling his father all that had happened in those two days. He purposely skipped the part where he'd fallen ill and the part where that FBI agent had come to visit them for a little interrogation. Sam thought it was unnecessary to get into the details. After hanging up, Sam and Dean had their usual breakfast of Cap'n Crunchy with milk and left for school.

At school, Sam was in his English class giving a test. They were supposed to write a short thesis on Robin Hood- the classic character created by Mark Twain. Sam had always been fascinated by this character and his lifestyle. Stealing from the rich and giving it to the poor, the idea seemed noble yet he was considered notorious. Sam wondered how his life would've been, had he been Robin Hood… His thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Carver, his English teacher. 'You done with the test, ?'

'Uh, no, sir. I'm yet to write the essay,' Sam said nervously.

'Alright, hurry up! We don't want you to submit an incomplete paper now, do we?' Mr. Carver said with a slight smile and walked away towards his desk.

Sam was done with writing the thesis; he went on to the next question which was the essay. There were two options-

**Write an essay describing your role model.**

**Write an essay on your favorite family vacation**

Sam decided to go with the first topic since he didn't really have a favorite family vacation. However, even that turned out to be hard since he didn't really have a role model either. He thought hard, trying to think of someone who could be role model-material. His Dad? Uncle Harry? Nah, they were too…_ordinary. _Sam couldn't imagine anyone who'd be worth being a role model. Instead, he decided to write about his _ideal _role model and quickly jotted down the points he'd like to mention.

Half an hour went by, it seemed, in a matter of a few minutes and it was time for everybody to submit their papers. Sam was satisfied with the way he'd given his test and hoped to get at least an A- . As he thought back to what he'd written in the essay, all the characteristics he'd mentioned his ideal role model should have, they seemed to remind Sam of someone. He couldn't really put a finger on who it exactly was but he felt that he knew this person. Someone who'd stand up for what they believed in, someone who'd have Sam's back, no matter what, someone who'd put the safety of others before their own, someone like…TRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGG GGG!

The bell had rung and all the students were running out of the class and out into the grassy grounds or rushing to the canteen. After the cold chill since the past week, the weather that day was warm and sunny. Sam took in the warmth of the sun as he walked across the grass towards the other building. He wanted to meet Dean and tell him how great his test went. On his way, he met Dean's friend Tyler. 'Hey, any idea where Dean is?' Sam asked.

'Um, not really. Last time I saw him going towards the men's room,' Tyler replied.

'Okay, thanks!' Sam said and turned to go the men's room when Tyler added, 'Hey, aren't you that kid Dean's been baby-sitting?' 'Yeah, that'd be,' Sam said and quickly walked away.

Sam finally reached the men's room. He went in and called out,' Dean? You there?' But no one answered. Sam checked all the cubicles and Dean wasn't there. He was about to leave when someone said, 'Are you looking for somebody, kid?'

Sam turned and saw a man, probably in his thirties, standing beside the sink. He had large grey-ish eyes with an aquiline nose and a bony jaw. He wore a green janitor's suit and held a wet mop in his hand. 'Are you looking for somebody, child?' he repeated. His voice sounded melodious as he spoke and he smiled gently.

'Um, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there,' Sam said.

'No problem, I was just doing my job,' the man smiled.

'Okay, so, um, I'll get out of here, janitor David,' Sam squinted his eyes as he read the janitor's name tag.

'Yes, okay,' janitor David said and smiled.

Sam was about leave when something struck him; he looked back at the janitor and said, 'Hey, aren't you the new security guard?'

The janitor smiled and said, 'As a matter of fact, I am. Your previous janitor, Max, had to take a sudden leave due to medical emergencies. I'm just filling in for him.'

'Oh, that's really nice of you,' Sam said.

'Hey, do you wanna know something?' David asked, his eyes glinting like a supernova.

'What?' Sam said. The janitor was taking short steps towards him. Sam was edging away and trying to get towards the door when suddenly the janitor leaped at him. Sam crashed on the floor along with the janitor who held both of his hands in a tight grip. He was trying to break away when suddenly he felt a sort of a sting on his left forearm.

Soon, within about 30 seconds, Sam started feeling disoriented, his vision got fuzzy and he seemed to be losing control over his muscles. Sam tried to break free but his body wouldn't move, he tried to scream but he couldn't. His hearing was the only thing that hadn't been impaired yet. He heard the janitor laugh wickedly. Even then, the voice sounded melodious, as if someone was playing a harp or some other musical instrument of that sort.

Sam wished Dean was there to help him. He knew Dean would beat up this guy just like he'd beat up that bully in his class. But Dean wasn't there to help…slowly Sam's eyes drooped, even his hearing got unclear; he was on the verge of unconsciousness. The sound of the janitor's laughter grew muffled, he said something like, 'You're gonna be my dinner tonight.' And then Sam passed out.


	21. Chapter 21

.

**Chapter 21**

Bobby Singer parked his grey Saturn right beside a Chevy truck. He had come to Saint Lawrence School in order to investigate on his case- hoping to find some new leads on the Dagda. He was asking a kid for the directions to the Principal's office, when he was approached by a middle-aged man wearing a janitor's uniform.

'Excuse me, may I help you?' the man asked politely with a courteous smile.

Bobby brandished his FBI ID badge and said, 'Agent Willis. I'm working a case here and I'd like to speak to a few people of the school's staff.'

'Oh, I didn't know the Feds were in town. It's such an honour, sir. You guys do an excellent job in maintain our country's security,' the janitor was all praises.

Basically, Bobby cared jack squat about this guy's feelings for the Feds. But he did feel proud of the fact that people easily believed him to be a Federal Agent. The ID badge was obviously a fake but Bobby had made it with such precision and detail that it'd hard to differentiate this with a real one.

'So what exactly are you investigating, sir?' the janitor narrowed his large eyes as he said this.

'The disappearances of those kids. I'd expect you to know about this,' Bobby said gravely.

'Oh, yes, of course, I do know about them. Such a travesty, isn't it? Such small, innocent kids, being killed like that..' the janitor hung his head in sorrow.

'Yeah, I know. Hey, how'd you know that they're killed? The cops are yet to release an official murder charge,' Bobby said. He felt suspicious about this person.

'Oh, well I just assumed that they must be, you know, killed. It's been quite a few days since they went missing,' the janitor said.

Bobby noticed that the janitor had been carrying a huge bin which had almost equally huge garbage bags dumped in. As Bobby examined the bin, he could've sworn he saw something twitch; almost like it was trying to make weak attempts at breaking free.

The janitor caught him looking at the bin and quickly swiveled the bin to the right and was about to walk away when Bobby said, 'Wait. Where's the security guard of this school?'

'I am. Actually, one of the janitors had to take a leave so I'm just filling in for him,' the janitor said with a nervous smile.

Bobby opened his mouth to say something but instantly closed it when he saw a sleeve of a brown jacket peeping out of the small opening in one of the bags. He tried to maintain a poker face because he didn't want the janitor or security guard or whoever he was, to know about what Bobby just saw.

'Thank you for your cooperation,' was all Bobby said as he quickened his pace and walked towards the school's main building.

~~S~~U~P~~E~~R~~N~~A~~T~~U~~R~~A~~L

Where the hell did Sam disappear to? When they'd all gone for lunch in the canteen, Tyler mentioned that Sam had been looking for Dean. Dean guessed it must've been something important and took off at once to look for him. After almost an hour of searching, he still couldn't find him.

Dean had checked every possible place Sam could be at. He'd even gone round their school's library twice, just in case Sam was lurking in some corner of the library reading one of those weird-ass nerdy books he always carried. And Sam wasn't there.

Dean's level of panic was slowly rising as he ran out of places to search. He was going to the library to check again when he crossed paths with Mr. Carver, Sam's English teacher.

'Ah, Mr. O'Brien, do you happen to know where I can find Mr. Cortese?' Mr. Carver asked Dean.

'No, no I'm just looking for him,' Dean said impatiently.

'Oh, I wanted to compliment him on the essay that he wrote today. Excellent, I tell you!' Mr. Carver said.

'Okay, I'll pass him the message when I see him but right now, I gotta go find Sammy,' Dean said and without further ado, he started walking towards the library at quickened pace.

After searching each and every nook and corner of the library for the third time, Dean got tired. He sat down on one of the chairs and wiped the sweat off his forehead. His breathing was heavy and ragged, what with running around the school since noon. Dean looked at his watch- 1:37pm. He sat still for a moment, with his head resting on the cool surface of the table.

Just then, someone patted his back. Dean wished to God that it was Sam and slowly lifted up his head, hoping to see the dimpled face of that twelve year old kid. Instead he saw the face of Agent Willis- the FBI agent who'd come for investigation the other day.

'You? What the hell are you doing here?' Dean roared. Somehow, he didn't like this person at all.

'Yeah, I'm not too thrilled to see you either but we have-'

Dean interrupted him and said, 'Listen Mister, I got no time to answer your crappy questions. I'm really busy right now!'

'I know you're busy sitting here and daydreaming but Sam-'

Once again Dean interrupted Bobby and said, 'Sam? What happened to Sam? Where is he?'

'Okay, first: STOP INTERRUPTING ME! And second, I think Sam's been kidnapped,' Bobby uttered each word carefully.

'W-w-what? N-n-no. NO! It can't be!'

'Listen kid, you gotta calm down. Look I know it's hard to digest but right now, you have to be calm. Please, people are looking at us. Look, I promise I will explain everything,' Bobby was trying real hard to calm the kid down.

'There has to be a misunderstanding,' Dean said with a quivering voice.

'Did Sam wear the same brown jacket he'd worn the day I had come over to your place?' Bobby asked.

'Y-yeah.'

'There you go. I promise to bring your brother back. But right now you gotta come with me,' Bobby said and helped Dean up the chair. The two of them walked past the classrooms and out into the parking lot. The two of them drove down to the motel where Bobby had been staying.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Dean had been sitting on the broken couch that had its springs protruding out of it, since the past two hours. Agent Willis had left him at the motel all by himself and gone out to do his 'final investigation' on the case in which Dean was now officially involved.

Dean got up from the couch and paced around the length of the room, looking at his watch occasionally. Time seemed to be passing at snail-speed and this was annoying Dean very much. He wanted to get out of that godforsaken motel room and look for Sam. He wanted to _help_. Dean he was unable to think of anything else, all he wanted was for Sammy to be alright. _How the hell could I let this happen? I was supposed to look after the kid, I was supposed to watch out for him and protect him! _Dean hoped to God that agent Willis would be able to find Sam because he would not be able to live if something bad happened to his brother.

Images from the dream he'd seen two nights ago kept flashing in his mind and this annoyed him very much. He cursed himself for thinking of such trivial things when he should've been looking for Sam. Dean felt overwhelmed with helplessness and when he couldn't take it anymore- the sound of the clock ticking as hours passed by; the stench of cigarettes and whisky that filled the entire room; the idea of something bad happening to Sam on his watch and the idea of having to live with it for the rest of his life- he yanked open the wooden door that was half eaten with termites and walked out to look for Sam himself.

Just as Dean was about to cross the road, a grey Saturn veered in front of him and stopped. Agent Willis got out of the car; his expression was grave one and his eyebrows were creased.

'Did I or did I not tell you to stay inside the room?' Agent Willis shot.

'You were gone for hours! What was I s'pposed to do?' Dean said.

'You should've done what I'd said and stayed inside the room,' Agent Willis said. He knew from experience that Pagan Gods were dangerous and they'd do anything to fulfill their needs.

'I just don't want you to get hurt, kid,' Agent Willis said with a less stern voice.

'And I don't want Sam to get hurt,' Dean replied.

'Well, he won't. Not on my watch,' saying this Agent Willis walked towards his motel room. Dean quickly followed his steps and asked, 'So, um, did you find anything?'

Bobby found it strange to discuss a hunt with a kid. _Well, I guess there's a first time for everything, _he thought and said, 'I went back to your school and I think it's the security guard. Tell me something, does your school have any basement?'

'Yeah, but students aren't allowed there. It's more of a store room where they keep all the extra chairs and stuff, and any sort of plastic materials for recycling later on,' Dean answered.

'And let me guess, the janitor's in charge of that?' Bobby tried to guess.

'Yeah, but you just said that it's the security guard,' Dean said.

'The guy's been filling in for some janitor who's on a leave or something.'

'Okay, let's not waste any more time now. We gotta go and rescue Sam,' Dean said.

'Easy now, we won't be able to just go and kill that mother in broad daylight amidst so many people. I'll go in at night and do the needful,' Agent Willis explained.

'But how can let Sam be in danger when we already _know_ where he is!' Dean yelled helplessly.

'Look, I don't think he's gonna do anything right now. He knows better and he's gonna do whatever he has to do at night; trust me on this,' Agent Willis said.

'You're absolutely sure about this?' Dean asked.

'Yes, I'm sure we're gonna bring back Sam safe and sound. C'mon, let's get something to eat. I brought us some pie, I hope you like pie?' said Agent Willis. He felt really sorry for these two kids who had been dragged into this mess for no reason.

'No, I'm not really hungry now,' Dean said and slumped on the springy couch. 'I better get some sleep, so that I can help you find Sam,' he added.

'You're not coming,' Bobby said flatly as he served himself some pie and filled in a glass of whisky.

'What do you mean 'you're not coming'? Of course I'm coming!' Dean shot back quickly.

'Listen kid, I appreciate your concern for the kid but it's too dangerous and I can't afford to get somebody else into trouble,' agent Willis said.

'I don't care, okay? I don't friggin care! You just cannot expect me to sit around and eat pie or whatever while my brother's out there in danger!' Dean was outraged at the idea of staying back at the motel.

'Did you just call Sam your 'brother'?'

'No I didn't. Why would I call him my brother?'

'No, I just thought you did.'

'Well, it doesn't matter even if I did! I'm coming with you and that's all,' Dean said with a note of finality and ended the conversation.


End file.
